Sorry for the delay in this entry but today was yet another strange day that was not conducive to blog writing
Firstly the good news, Lanzarote Larry returned sending Fatboy Lard back to wherever he had been summonsed. Interestingly Suzi Soccarista was also missing that day. I naturally presumed that her and Larry had finally got together in some sort of trance, electronic, lifesaving type of clinch and Suzi being the stronger of the pair had done him some damage. No. Suzi had 4 days off to visit her parents and Larry had a touch of the Montezumas. Probably a dodgy paella or spliff.
So harmony returned poolside to Barcelo Teguise Beach. Well not quite. Just before lunch the wind, that Lanzarote is famous for and hence the plethora of unwashed, scruffy wind surfer types, got up to force 7 levels. Having got up early I had managed to bagsy one of the 10 umbrellas - sorry let me rewrite that - having been made to get out of bed at 07:30 to get one of the umbrellas. Anyway one particular fierce gust managed to lift said umbrella, a heavy duty type please note, clean out of its base and hurl it at poor Mrs CT. A very loud ouch was uttered but interestingly for a Raunds girl, no expletives. It had hit her in the stomach, scaffold end first leaving her winded and with a horrible and angry red mark that was indicative of a large bruise to come later. "Good job I am not one of those skinny bitches otherwise I would have been cut in half" cried Mrs CT. A great future excuse for keeping up with the chocolate and prosecco diet. So another trip to reception to record the incident in the accident book - oh wishful thinking - "no requirement under Spanish law to have one" the assistant manageress told us. Having witnessed the absence of Health & Safety during the building works this came as no surprise. Mrs CT retired hurt for the rest of the day.
Needless to say Mrs CT is now staying well clear of umbrellas, which is good news for my lie-ins.
Laters!
Strange title, strange day! You just know when it is going to be one of those days when things just aren't the same. First off Lanzarote Larry had gone awol. To be replaced by Fatboy Lard, a peroxide DJ from yesteryear. Most of the kit but not the look. The Beats headphones are €20 bad fakes from one of those quality Chinese shops that I told you about the other day. Perhaps it is people such as he that buy those salt & pepper pots? He even posed for the picture.
Set the scene: we woke up to yet another sunny morning, glorious. Mrs CT decided it was her turn to get up and 'Bagsie' sun beds. I could hear her ferreting around and mumbling to herself. This went on for a good 15 minutes, meanwhile all the good sun beds were being reserved. "What's the matter", I asked. "I can't find my bra", replied Mrs CT.
The Investigation: a bra hunt then ensued for a half an hour at which point I called time and told her to wear a different one. Mrs CT grudgingly agreed. We went to reserve beds and then to breakfast, but Mrs CT was not happy. Unsettled, I would describe her mood. As soon as she could she finished her breakfast and went back to the room. She reappeared 30 minutes later, without the bra.
So I sat her down and tried to methodically take her through the sequence of events of when she last saw the missing bra. "It was on me", was her reply! Exasperated I continued, and managed to work out where she had got undressed but all trails went cold when it got to the point about where she put the bra. "The bra would not be missing if I knew that!", Mrs CT replied.
Conclusion: that evening whilst getting ready to go to dinner, Mrs CT went to the safe to retrieve her jewellery and purse. And guess what........there was the bra. Yes, locked up safely the night before, in the bloody safe. Why? Who knows! Even Mrs CT cannot understand why she had done this. "Old-zheimers" she announced.
Very apt
Laters!
PS This Blog was actually written by Mrs CT herself as, quite literally, I couldn't be bothered today!
The positioning however did put us dead opposite the daytime pool activities. This gives me an ideal opportunity to introduce you to some of the cast in this years holiday. Study the next picture and I will explain.
First up is the chap on the left, Lanzarote Larry, a failed Ibiza DJ but now plying his trade here. Looks like an arctic explorer who seeks out hotter climes during the summer but forgets to shave his beard off. To be fair he does play some good mixes. I fail to see how he earns money by "pressing play" a couple of times between 11:00 and 16:00 every day. He must be the real thing because he has lots of stickers on his laptop. The over 65s around the pool do not get the beat and definitely have aversion to the volume.
Next up, on the far right, is Lizzie the Lezzie, aerobics instructor and all round animation leader. Named after the C4 morning fitness instructor of the 90s. Every day at 12 she corals a group of 15 or so women of all ages and nationalities into performing water aerobics. This culminates in them massaging each other in the water. Needless to say the British only do this for one day as that amount of intimacy with strangers is just not on. Meanwhile Lezzie Lizzie just looks on from the side of the pool, drooling and wishing she was in there getting down and naughty. (PS Just because she is covered in tattoos and has thighs that could crack walnuts does not mean that she is from the island of Lesbos. It is the writers prerogative to presume that she is).
Lastly, in the middle and I am sure she wishes she was sometimes, we have Suzy Socorrista (lifeguard) who, as you can see, is in lust with Larry but also Lizzie as well. She gets to demonstrate the massages at the poolside with Lizzie acting as masseuse. Naturally she was the one picked for her particular job because of her in-built extra buoyancy.
There are many others, including Coughing Carol and Porno Pam but I need pictorial substance before I can introduce them into the story.
A close up of Lizzie who, on occasions, gives a flash of what is underneath the very short blue skirt. I just hope it is a pair of black sports knickers rather than an eyeful of dark Iberian thicket.
Okay, an update on air-congate. Eventually a very switched on young man with impeccable English arrived to say that they have discovered what the problem is by taking the unit apart in our old room. The contractors had plumbed in an electronic valve the wrong way round (where have we heard that before, bathroom chums!). He believes this to be the same in all the rooms on floor 3. Oh dear someone is going to pay. The short term solution is to fix the valve into an open position, as long as maintanence man's arm is long enough. It was, good. Room is now either freezing or hot but much better.
WARNING - Look out for tomorrow's blog which contains penes. This is not a predictive text error but a real word. Google it now to avoid blushes!
Laters!
After a sweaty night which had nothing to do with bedroom gymnastics, time had come to be a little more forceful with reception re the broken air-con. Full marks to them as they played a calming card in the form of Candy, a porn name admittedly but very friendly and spoke good English. Apparently the air-con in 3035 could not be fixed and therefore they were locating an alternative room of the same layout - should take about an hour. OK. Let's hope it is not too far from our existing room as, already explained, we had 57kg of packing to transfer! Our room is top floor just to the left of the big palm in the middle of the pic.
True to form, Candy had come up trumps. Our new room, 3034, was right next door. Middle of the pic behind large palm. Let operation "switch room" begin. Did we pack away all our clothes? No. We found that the bedside tables and drawers were on wheels, we merely swapped them. It must have looked like we were robbing the room especially when I came out grasping the contents of our safe in my hands!
After all this activity, I decided it was time to go out on manoeuvres, my name for getting out of the hotel for a walk, exploring the local area and maybe sneaking in a couple of cold ones at the odd bar. My original plan was to locate a hotel and restaurant that friends had been to before and recommended. I did walk virtually the entire length of the resort and found that, as per my first impressions, it was full of pubs, restaurants and tacky souvenir shops aimed squarely at the Brit abroad. Some strange sand/rock art.
Time to head back. Lots of little establishments along the way and it was very hot. A cold pint of Fosters was acquired at a very reasonable £1.70. Stanwick please take note. Menu was good value. The only time I have ever eaten a Pukka pie is when abroad, never at home bizzarely.
Laters!
BREAKING NEWS - it is now 3am in the morning and the air-con in our new room has exploded, or at least the noises sounded like it. Needless to say nothing but warm air. Oh well at least I get to see the lovely Candy again in the morning.
Definitely laters!
Breakfast as normal then onwards to sunbeds. In between was a visit back to the room to collect trunks, bikinis, books, sun lotion etc etc. The room was unusually warm, the maid had been in but the air-con was still running. On closer inspection, which involved sticking my hand into the air outlet, nothing but warm air could be found. At this point I must explain that on our arrival on Thursday I had to go back to reception with a snagging list from what was a brand new room - several bulbs not working, TV's (yes we have two) not tuned and an air-conditioning unit making some very strange noises. Much apologies were given, notes taken on the computer screen and a message sent to maintanence. Nothing happened on Friday, so I had to go back and reiterate my complaints. The excellent upside to this was the application of "all inclusive" to our room number in the hope that we would not kick up too much more fuss - RESULT! Downside - no action re air-con noises. More of this ongoing story tomorrow.
A wander into the Pub/Curry House/Chinese hell centre in search of lunch brought us into a new restaurant for the season, Mercado Diecisiete, serving traditional fish dishes - right up our street with prices sufficient to keep the burger eating, €1.50 pint drinking brigade firmly away, albeit two restaurants down the road but far enough away not to be heard! Dishes of Octopus on sweet potato and Mussels Marinara duly ordered and eaten.
Back to our now super heated room, windows thrown open along with the curtains in an attempt to get some sleep. Not happy :( At least lunch was good although you couldn't tell from the face I am pulling in the pic below).
Title nothing to do with the various food and drinks consumed yesterday from Gatwick via BA and onto the very varied menu at the hotel. So here we go, first full day and a quick look at our view and one of our balconies. Ooh get me but yes we have two! It was a little dark yesterday by the time we had unpacked and had dinner so this is the first chance of any pics.
Because we had been given a very generous baggage allowance by BA, Mrs CT insisted on packing both of our gym kits because "we are going to start on a fitness regime this holiday". Oh yeah, well that will never happen. Oh $hit yes it will. Being dragged out of bed early on our first day came as a shock! My bad knee conveniently gave way after 10 minutes so all I could is sit and watch, agonisingly dreaming of breakfast.
Then to breakfast, at last, which again was very good. Eggs, omelettes and bacon all cooked to order. On the walk back to our room we discovered a whole world of frenetic building activity. Room doors wide open, plasterers, plumbers, decorators all hard at work on the two floors below us. It was clear that they had deadlines to hit today or tomorrow. This explained the "your room is not ready" being informed to new residents. Literally your room has not yet been built! Talk about last minute dot com.
Sun beds comfy and plentiful. The onshore breeze in the Canaries has upsides and downsides. Upside, keeps you cool and refreshed in the blazing sun. Downside, lets you get burnt without realising in the blazing sun. Ouch is all I can say after the first day around the pool.
On first inspection of the local area it would appear that we are right in the middle of a small area that I can only describe as Lanzarote's answer to Benidorm. The Red Lion, Mulligans Bar and all the other derivatives happily advertised full English breakfasts for €3.00, the cheapest beer in town and evening entertainment straight out of Butlins and worse. In addition I have never seen so many Chinese and Indian restaurants in one place. Do the Spanish really think that is what the British diet consists of? Anyway we settled on a traditional Bodega for a light lunch. Well it would have been light if Mrs CT's enthusiasm for several different Tapas plates had been curtailed. Wonderful meal of garlic prawns, chirozo, mountain ham and padron peppers. This last dish being the inspiration for Walkers new Roulette Nachos ie every 10th is eye wateringly hot and you cannot tell which one it will be.
After lunch and several beers, Mrs CT decided that the rest of the late afternoon would be spent back in our room watching a Scotsman and a Swiss banging the hell out of some small yellow balls in South London. Not me! Time had come to test out our roof top bubbly bath provided by Duravit (Blue Moon) with Dornbracht brassware. These last bits of info are for my bathroom industry chums. 20 minutes to fill and the water was a very peculiar colour due to all the brick dust in the air that had settled in said bath and the fact that I was its first user. So here I am surrounded by bubbles, listening to the Ashes on internet radio and soaking up more rays. Yes those are my red trunks on the side, the flesh on show is my knee. Bubbles keeping everything else from view. Don't worry I haven't seen it in years either!
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